


The Yellow Scarf

by confusednctzen



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, Childhood Friends, Cute, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Sex, No Angst, One Shot, but for like one second, just cute, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confusednctzen/pseuds/confusednctzen
Summary: When Renjun is twelve years old, he knits a scarf for Donghyuck.When he is twenty-one, he forgets all about it.Donghyuck reminds him.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91





	The Yellow Scarf

**Author's Note:**

> i saw this #23daysofwonder tag on twitter and the scarf one spoke to me  
> english is not my first language so im so sorry for any grammatical errors, pls ignore them  
> kudos and comments are very much appreciated. thanks for reading!!

Renjun learns knitting when he is twelve.

It’s a warm summer day, the kind where he wants to skin himself just so that he can breathe again. Air too humid to do anything other than sigh every other minute. Rays of sunlight hitting his skin as though it’s trying to burn through his clothes. Sweat collects at his temples as he tries to copy his mothers quick fingers. His untamed hands keeping him from being as efficient as he would like to be. _His mother makes it seem so easy_ , Renjun thinks, _it’s not fair._

“You know what,” he says, eyebrows pulled together, throwing the needles unceremoniously onto the coffee table between them, nearly knocking his iced tea while doing so, “whatever, I’m not doing this anymore.”

His mother laughs, her own knitting yarn forgotten for the time being. She turns to his son, a smile in her lips, a smile in her eyes.

“You can’t instantly be perfect at it, honey. This takes time and effort.” She reaches for the needles his son threw, trying not to burst into laughter as she sees the horrendous creation her son spent the last thirty minutes trying to put together, and offers them to him. “And patience.”

“I possess none of those traits.” He grumbles under his breath as his hands unconsciously reach for the needles once again.

Her mother giggles. “Why the sudden interest, though?”

Renjun flushes a beautiful red. Redder than he had been all day. And that means something because his normally snow white skin does not stand a chance against heat. “Just because.”

His mother, bless her, is not the pestering type. So she leaves it at that. Asks her son if she needs any help, then continues her work after getting a shake of head as an answer.

They stay like that, rhythmic sounds coming from his mothers fingertips and occasional sighs escaping his lips, his lungs deflating with shorter intervals each passing second. Whole of four minutes pass before Renjun can’t help himself and blurts out, feeling antsy for no reason.

“I want to make a scarf.” He says, eyes looking anywhere but his mother. His hands stopped knitting, instead they fiddle with the yarn, wrapping it around his finger and then releasing it. Fingernails tapping against the needles.

“A scarf? You want a scarf. I can make you one, hone—“

“No,” Renjun cuts her, his leg bounces up and down, following the rhythm his fingernails set. He looks constipated, to put it bluntly. His face looks like he wants to be anywhere but here, doing anything but having this conversation. He looks embarrassed, which is interesting because embarrassment is not an emotion he exhibits that often. “No, not for me.”

His mother waits for a second. And then realization settles on her face. Her voice is nothing but a giddy whisper when she utters a small, “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He sighs once again, this time shyly.

“You like someone?”

“Maybe.” He resumes his, admittedly hideous, work.

“What’s her name?”

“His name is Donghyuck.”

And when he looks up again, she smiles. “That’s a nice name.”

—

The room is hot. The room is fucking burning up. The room feels like the depths of hell, not that Renjun has ever been to hell but at this rate he will be, eventually, he reasons, so it’s only fair that he makes assumptions about it. And this room takes the cake.

“Jesus Christ, it’s hot,” he mumbles as much, rolling on his back on the bed.

“Mm,” a voice pipes up near his ear, “yeah, I am.”

“Not you, dumbass,” Renjun reaches for the nearest object, which happens to be a pillow, and smashes it on the person’s face. “I’m talking about the room.”

With a huff, the body, which had been occupying the other side of the bed, gets up, previously thrown pillow slipping from his face. “As much as I accept the accuracy of that statement, that does not change the fact that I am still hot.” He moves to the window, cracking it open. “The least you could do is acknowledge it.”

Renjun sends him a death glare. He grins. They work like that.

“Come back to bed, Hyuck,” Renjun scoots over to one side, even though they both know the minute Donghyuck sets foot in the bed he is going to leech on to him like an octopus. He is extremely clingy for someone who prides himself on being aloof. Donghyuck is an exception, though. He kinda always was.

Donghyuck sighs and dutifully walks back to bed. Being a university student in a packed dorm room, it is an unsurprisingly short trip anyway, consisting of three careful steps. Well, Donghyuck thinks, if you are Renjun then it’s probably four. ‘Cause, you know, legs.

“You said it was hot,” he whines as he waddles to his side of the bed. It’s still warm, unfortunately. He hoped the duvet would’ve gotten a little cooler since he left. He kinda doesn’t want to get into bed again, but Renjun told him to lie down and Renjun’s word is law, so, he lays down.

As expected, Renjun throws his whole body at Donghyuck’s the second his head hits the pillow. His hands sneaking around Donghyuck’s waist, body half on top of him half on the bed. A satisfied sigh leaves Renjun’s lips, his face buried in Donghyuck’s neck, breathing his scent. _It’s a nice feeling_ , is what Donghyuck would think normally, but it’s just so fucking hot.

“It is” Renjun says, unashamedly, to the crook of Donghyuck’s neck.

Donghyuck sighs again, louder this time, trying to get a point across. Saying get off without actually saying it. Don’t get him wrong, he loves Renjun, absolutely adores him. But sometimes there just needs to be space between them. Like, when it’s hot. Like, for example, now. Now there needs to be space between them.

Renjun doesn’t seem to agree with his internal monologue.

Since his attempt at sighing constantly until Renjun gets the hint falls through, he accepts defeat. Accepts the fact that he is going to die like this. Smothered to death by the love of his life ‘cause apparently cuddling is more important than, say, breathing.

Well, maybe he is exaggerating on the dying part, but whatever.

“Maybe I should get you the scarf as well, since, y’know, it seems like you want us to fucking burn to death.” He jokes.

Renjun makes a puzzled noise. His breath touches Donghyuck’s neck, sending electricity through his whole body that he can’t help but shiver, snuggling closer. “What scarf?”

Donghyuck pets Renjun’s back, gently massaging his knots. “The yellow scarf.”

Renjun looks up. He looks the most confused Donghyuck has ever seen him, and he’s seen him plenty confused. His eyes say, _I don’t understand_. His mouth says, “What yellow scarf?”

Understanding what’s going on, that Renjun, the ever amazing Renjun forgot the scarf he himself knitted for him when they were kids, Donghyuck’s hands stop in their ministrations. He is shocked, more than anything. Genuinely confused at the fact that even Renjun is capable of forgetting things sometimes. “You gave it to me, dude, how can you forget that.”

Renjun frowns, his free hand smacking Donghyuck’s shoulder rather harshly. “Don’t dude me, we just had sex.”

Donghyuck hisses, not because the hit hurt but because he wants Renjun to think it hurt, or else he’s going to start smacking him harder that is just a risk he’s not willing to take. “I can dude you however I like,” he argues, voice whiny, “we were, like, eleven or twelve. It was lunch break and you tossed it onto my lap, quite unceremoniously, might I add, you could’ve at least had the decency to wrap in some gift paper. And after that you complained to me literally every day for the whole year about how hard it was to knit it and that I better appreciate it or else, I thought my ears were gonna fall off. And now you come and say you forgot about it?”

So maybe he’s being dramatic, sue him. You weren’t the one who had to deal with Renjun’s wrath just because he forgot to wear the scarf for one day.

Renjun’s eyes light up. He unconsciously rises from Donghyuck’s chest, elbowing Donghyuck’s ribs in the process. His scream of pain gets drowned by Renjun’s epiphany. “Oh shit,” he half laughs half screams, eyes lighting up. “Oh shit, the scarf. Oh my god! You should’ve just said the yellow scarf.”

“I—” Donghyuck looks at him, genuinely confused, “I did, though?”

Renjun doesn’t seem to care about that statement. He goes back to his previous positions just as fast as he got up. Lips on neck, hand on waist and all. Talks to Donghyuck’s jawline, “Oh my god! I thought you would’ve just thrown it away by now!”

“Why the fuck would I throw it away? No, why would you think that I would throw it away?” He cranes his neck to speak to Renjun, or more like to speak to his hairline. In an extremely fake sad voice, he stage whispers, “Am I that horrible of a boyfriend?”

Renjun smacks him, again. This time, his noise of pain is real though, Renjun’s tiny fists getting stronger each hit.

“No, you idiot,” he screams, then goes back to Donghyuck’s neck.

Donghyuck kinda wants to kiss him.

“It was too loose and it looked like a fucking spider web with the holes I made when I was making it. A spider on crack, more like. I’m, like, a hundred percent sure it couldn’t even keep you warm.” He explains.

“No, it was warm.”

Renjun’s eyebrows raise in disbelief. Donghyuck can’t see it but he sure as hell can feel it. Renjun protests, voice like a teacher, stating a fact, “You were freezing throughout high school.”

“No?” Donghyuck frowns, ready to fight, “You have no way of knowing that. If I say it kept me warm, it kept me warm” _and that’s final_ , his tone indicates.

Renjun sighs, his need to prove himself right forgotten for the time being in favor of hugging his boyfriend. “You should’ve just threw it away,” he mumbles, voice sleepy.

Donghyuck purses his lips, sulking. “You made it, though,” he says.

Renjun stays silent but Donghyuck can feel his smile, right beside his artery, tiny, satisfied. He snuggles closer, if that’s even possible with the way their bodies basically became one at this point, limbs intertwined, the unbearable heat forgotten for the time being.

“So you didn’t have the heart to get rid of it, huh? ‘Cause it reminded you of me?” Renjun whispers smugly into the crook if his neck, in a voice so small it’s like they’re sharing a secret.

And it’s, it’s great. Amazing, even. Lovely and all, but this is not them. They don’t work like this. They don’t do romantic. It’s not something they avoid, per se, but it’s just so vulnerable and incredibly close to heart that this side of theirs only come out once in a blue moon. When they feel like it’s okay to let go.

Instead, they work in the way of jokes and jabs. More comfortable with actions than words. Slaps of adoration and bickering in the language of love. And then hugging. Always hugging at the end.

So, Donghyuck does what he does best. He teases.

“What?” Donghyuck says, incredulously. His voice is too high to be genuine. “No, I’m just saying that you made it for me. If I threw it away you would fucking chop my head off without hesitation.”

“Oh my god, Hyuck,” Renjun screeches, “way to ruin a moment.”

He gets up, Donghyuck feels kinda cold without the hot breath periodically hitting his neck. Those kind of thoughts immediately leave his mind, though, as Renjun throws one of his legs over his waist, effectively caging Donghyuck’s figure, sitting tall on his hips. He grabs the discarded pillow, hands fast, faster than Donghyuck’s, slamming it on Donghyuck’s face, little giggles leaving their lips in the process.

They play like that for a while. Renjun tickling and pinching, Donghyuck trying to get him to stop before they both fall face first on the carpet Renjun’s mom gifted them last summer and crack their head open. Giggles turn into laughter. They play, until their bodies ache, limbs too tired to even lift a finger, sweat collecting at their temples, laughter turning into tired little sighs of happiness.

There is no winner, at the end. There never is. Just two boys playing around. Two boys joking and laughing cause they don’t know how else to deal with this. How else to deal with the way their heart feels like it’s going to burst at any second. Filled to the brim. Filled with too much, too sweet. This honey like feeling that leaves them hungry for more. Leaves them greedy.

Renjun bends down, his nose touching Donghyuck’s. His hands holding Donghyuck’s face, with utmost care, like if he stops being gentle even for a second Donghyuck’s going to break. And Donghyuck is not even sure if that is entirely untrue. He does feel like breaking. Donghyuck’s hands find their place on Renjun’s waist in no time, holding him is second nature at this point. They breathe. Air leaving their lips, mingling together, intimate. Close, incredibly close but not close enough. Never close enough when it comes to Renjun.

Hands around his waist, adoration in his eyes, voice gentle and soft, always soft for Renjun, Donghyuck whispers into the shared space between them. “I love you Renjun-ah.”

“And I love you.”


End file.
